Posted to Sister Zeph’s Journal
By Sister Zeph
On February 4, 2014
Approximately a year ago, I was strolling down the road en route to my office when an unusual encounter unfolded. Two helmeted men on a motorcycle came to an abrupt halt before me. I had never crossed paths with them before, nor did I encounter them thereafter.
The man with the crimson helmet locked eyes with me, raised his index finger, and uttered sternly, “We know what you are doing. Cease or prepare for the consequences.” In an instant, they sped away.
I pondered this incident for several days but refrained from sharing it with my family, as I didn’t want to cause them undue worry. In time, the memory faded, and I never encountered those mysterious figures again.
Yet, yesterday, as I returned home, I had a remarkable encounter with Atiya, a fourth-grade student. She is nothing short of a prodigy, and I hold high expectations for her academic prowess. She exudes confidence, her penmanship is impeccable, and she swiftly grasps her lessons. However, what sets her apart is her extraordinary compassion. Being the first to complete her tasks, she takes it upon herself to tutor her fellow students, particularly those who struggle. Her teaching approach is marked by love, care, and the expertise of a seasoned educator.
Yesterday, she administered tests to four younger girls, and I was astounded by the results. Her remarks and signatures on the tests were impeccable, and her students beamed with pride at their progress.
My mother, aged 65, delivered an unexpected revelation last week. As I prepared breakfast, she stood by my side and expressed her desire to learn how to read books. This was indeed a momentous announcement. My mother, who had never attended school, harbors a deep love for education. During my full-time job, she single-handedly manages our home and the Women’s Learning Center. She meticulously records teacher and student attendance, maintains discipline, ensures access to clean drinking water, cooks, cleans pots, and does laundry.
Now, she too seeks to acquire an education. Her invaluable support is the bedrock upon which all my endeavors rest. Without her, I would either need to remain at home or forsake my job. Therefore, my mother is poised to become a student under Atiya’s tutelage, who eagerly accepted the role of teaching my mother reading and writing whenever time permits.
Atiya is not alone in her mission. Many of my students are passionate about sharing their knowledge and skills with one another. They derive immense joy from doing so.
Over the past five years, not a single dispute or altercation has marred the harmony among my students. They foster a culture of mutual love and respect. Whenever a new student joins, the existing members rally to offer their guidance and support.
As I sit here in the midnight silence, sleep eludes me due to my overwhelming pride in my students. They are numerous, and they share a common purpose — to replicate the values and knowledge they’ve gained from me.
I contemplate the inevitability of death that awaits us all, but what remains eternal are our thoughts, our beliefs, and our contributions to making this world a better place. Should I, someday, depart for any reason, it will not signify the end. I will live on through my students, my work, and my dedication to our world.
For when I am no longer present, my students will continue the legacy, tirelessly working toward the same goals and ideals that I have held dear throughout my life.